


Crudely Cut Hearts

by cellard00rs



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sibling Incest, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:01:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29429940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellard00rs/pseuds/cellard00rs
Summary: 30!Stans, Ford is saved from the portal, but things are still a little awkward. Add Valentine's Day into the mix and it becomes more so.
Relationships: Ford Pines/Stan Pines
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Crudely Cut Hearts

"So," Stan says baldly, "Valentine's day."

Ford blinks owlishly at his brother, confused. The past few days between them have been tense, awkward. After saving his brother from being sucked into the portal, neither Ford nor Stan has known how exactly to approach the other.

And being snowed in at Ford's house doesn't help.

The best either has been able to come up with is to avoid the other. They circle one another, like wary animals, picking out territories. Stan's confined himself to the upstairs; Ford - the basement. Rarely have the two met in-between. And why not? Their last interaction had been...volatile. The argument, Stan's injury, Ford being sucked up into God knows what, only for Stan to latch on to him at the last moment, to draw him back from the very jaws of the unknown.

Ford decided to focus on dismantling his portal and Stan chose to thumb through the journal his twin thought oh-so-important.

To be fair, the journal is... compelling. Full of mysteries and adventures and things Stan can scarcely comprehend. But also it's a record of how far apart they are - how much they've lost.

Stan would have loved to share these experiences with his sibling. And more than just his sibling, if they're even going to discuss what went on between them so long ago. Perhaps that's why today's date is so fitting. Or not and Stan had just asked what day it was - one of the only things to pass between them since the portal incident and Ford distractedly rattled off February 14th. Now, drawn from his distraction (some hastily scribbled notes he's made and is perusing) Ford seems nonplussed, "Oh? Uh, yes?"

Stan wonders if he should say what he's thinking, a rarity for him. He struggles for about half a second before thinking, fuck it, "We never got to celebrate that, did we?"

Ford still looks lost, so Stan clears his throat, avoiding his eyes as he rubs the back of his neck and says gruffly, "Ya know... back around the time we was in our last year of high school..."

Risking a quick side eye, he hopes he doesn't have to elaborate, doesn't have to help jog Ford's memory.

He doesn't.

Ford colors an attractive shade of pink, his own eyes now avoiding Stanley's, "Ahhh, yes. Um. No. No, we-we most certainly did not..."

The air is thick with tension. What kind is hard to say. In fact, it could be an amalgam of different things. Regardless, Stan sees one of the papers Ford has is blank and, without a second thought, he snatches it up.

Drawing a pocket knife out of his jacket (a must need accessory in light of his dealings with Rico) he hastily hacks at the paper until he makes the world's crudest looking heart, offering it to his twin with a stark, "For you."

"...what?"

Stan rolls his eyes and shoves it at him, "It's a valentine, genius."

Startled, Ford takes the heart and looks at it as if he's never seen the like. Stan waits for him to discard it or to say how it's not anatomically correct or some other cutting thing. It's not as if they ended on the best of terms. Not when they broke up (Ford's doing), not when they were torn apart (Stan's doing), and certainly not recently (both their doing). It's been a rocky road between them even before the science fair fiasco and now after it, it's morphed into a minefield.

Giving Ford the impromptu valentine is no doubt a terrible idea and Stan is even more certain of that when his twin silently rises from the table he's sitting at in the living room and walks away.

He leaves the room. Leaves Stan standing there like a chump. Yes, he took the heart with him, but lord knows where. To the trash, probably, and Stan ignores the lump that forms in his throat, the wet heat in his eyes when suddenly he hears some loud thudding - like cabinets or drawers being hastily opened then shut. It's followed by echoing footsteps and Ford returns, a thin cardboard box in his hands. He wordlessly offers it to Stan who takes it with a furrowed brow.

He looks at the box and reads its contents aloud, "Baking chocolate..."

Ford shrugs, "It's all I have. Think a friend of mine left it here..."

About a million things run through Stan's mind - he thinks about asking about the friend, he thinks about asking if the chocolate means what he thinks it means, he thinks about all this and more, but the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, "You know I can't eat this, right?"

Ford gasps and sputters, throwing his hands up as he snarls, "Typical! That's just typical of you, Stanley! Here I give you a perfectly acceptable gift as a token of my affection and you throw it back in my face and demand mo-!"

The 'more' and whatever else Ford plans on saying is lost as Stan quickly pockets the candy and then, using both hands, he cups Ford's face and drags him over for a kiss.

The lip lock makes Ford's words end in a startled and outraged ' _Mm_!' that then becomes a much more pleased and sensuous ' _Mm_...'

His stiff shoulders relax, tossed up hands falling limply to his sides as he just... _melts_.

His mouth drops open oh, so easily and Stan's tongue finds purchase inside. His heart pounds, his pulse races, his whole soul leaps because _this_.

Just... _this_.

He's never missed anything more, longed for it more. There's nothing he wouldn't trade for this - for more of it and here it is... back in his life again.

And Ford is kissing _back_. His tongue tracing along Stanley's, stroking it and teasing and he's making those sounds - the ones Stanley's never forgotten. Hot, heavy whimpering pants that go straight to Stan's head, his dick and it takes all his willpower to stop, to draw away and breathe, "Can't eat that...not a good taste. But you? Can taste you..."

Ford colors and he's so close Stan can see it, can watch the blossoming pink slowly fill his cheeks as he murmurs, "That's...horribly contrite..."

Stan just hums in agreement even as he says, "You love it, though..."

Ford looks away, embarrassed, even as he gives a curt nod. Stan can't help the warmth that washes through him at the sight, at the feel - because he's still holding Ford - his hands have slid down his cheeks to run over his shoulders, down his arms, and he clasps their hands together, fingers intertwining so easily as he whispers, "Happy Valentine's day, valentine."


End file.
